


Rite of Passage

by m0usielous1e



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Menstruation, Puberty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 11:01:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6751336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m0usielous1e/pseuds/m0usielous1e
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She knew it was coming, had been expecting it since Judith turned ten, and yet Michonne was stunned when the girl sidled up to her one morning after Carl and Rick had left for the day and whispered, “My belly hurts and I’m bleeding…I…I think something bit me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rite of Passage

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there. I am new to this fandom. Watched the entire series in the days before Easter this year and now I'm obsessed. Especially with Richonne. And want a Richonne baby, but well, yeah, probably not going to happen. So in the interim, for the baby, for October, I've done this thing. It's an odd thing, but I hope you like it.

She knew it was coming, had been expecting it since Judith turned ten, and yet Michonne was stunned when the girl sidled up to her one morning after Carl and Rick had left for the day and whispered, “My belly hurts and I’m bleeding…I…I think I'm turning into a walker. Something bit me.”

Michonne’s first thought, after the surprise went away, was wonder at the way Judith’s mind had come up with an explanation for what was happening. Judith’s body was signalling maturity but her mind was still miles away from that. It would have been funny, if it was not so serious, especially given the sheer terror barely concealed in the child’s wide, wet eyes, so Michonne merely shook her head and said, “No, sweetheart, you did not get bit. It’s natural, happens to all the girls.”

Judith’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. Clearly if it was a natural thing that happened to all girls she would have heard of it before. And yes, Michonne had wanted to discuss it before, especially since the signs had all been there. The day of rage and tears a few days earlier, the loss of appetite, the weight gain and the sleepless night that ended with Judith in her and Rick’s bed, while Rick, bone-tired but dedicated, tried to soothe the girl with stories of a world she had never seen, life with a mother she knew only by name and a makeshift fan of an ancient magazine, all warning of an impending, life-changing transformation. But some things had not changed. Menstruation was a topic never brought up, even when, some five years ago, the women of their group still menstruating found themselves on rags.

All business, Michonne asked, “What did you do with your clothes? The bedsheets?”

Judith dropped her gaze to the floor and mumbled something about the bathroom. Michonne smiled at her downturned head and said, “Come, I’ll help you clean up and explain what’s going to happen from now on.”

Judith released an audible sigh of relief and turned to lead the way.

The crime scene in the bathroom brought an unexpected swell of emotion. It was the memory of something similar happening many moons ago when Michonne was Judith’s age. It was the memory of a lost son with whom Michonne would never have shared this experience. It was the thought of another woman Michonne had never met but seen once in a photograph who had given up her life for a child she had never held.

Judith had dragged the bedsheets, mattress cover and her pyjama bottoms and underwear to the bathroom and dumped them in the tub. The water they were soaking in was slightly pink and the room smelled of iron. Michonne patted Judith’s head again and said, “Okay, try not to soak everything next time, just dump it in the laundry.”

“Next time?” Judith asked, her voice a high-pitched squeak. She was wide-eyed again, her skin pale and clammy.

Michonne smiled as reassuringly as she could and said, “Yes, next time. This is going to happen now every month until you’re Auntie Carol’s age. But again, it’s perfectly natural. It happens to me and all of your aunts.”

Judith went, if possible, paler at that and asked, “Why? That’s dangerous. We’ll be bait.”

“Calm down,” Michonne said, putting her hands on Judith’s shoulders and meeting her gaze. “It’s a problem, yes, but a manageable one. Human noses, even walkers’, are not that good. You’re more likely to attract a dog or wolves.”

Judith was not reassured by that in the slightest, and she asked, “But why? Isn’t there a way to stop it? Is this something that used to happen before?”

Michonne chuckled at that, she could not help it, and said, “No, this has always happened. It’s what happens when we don’t have babies.”

Judith’s brow furrowed and now Michonne cursed Rick out in her head for flat out refusing to have this conversation beforehand. She understood, she really did, the need to preserve some measure of innocence in a child born into this world, but some things could not be left to chance. What if they did not have these walls and stability? The worst would have been to have this happen out in the middle of nowhere on the way to somewhere, and yes, even after all this time, it was still a possibility that they might have to pick up and flee. Or maybe she should have done it anyway, Michonne was the only mother Judith had ever really known and as a woman it was her duty to pass on this information. She smiled again and said, “Okay, drain the tub and we’ll begin.”

Judith said nothing as Michonne spoke and they worked. It really was not that long a conversation, never had been, but awkward when Michonne remembered that only a few short days ago this same girl was throwing a fit over an old doll. Michonne had raised this child, sat through fevers and flus, nightmares and bedtime stories, heartbreak from friends lost to joy over gifts and rewards. She still remembered Judith’s first words, her first steps, the first time she rode a horse, the first time she fired a gun, the day she asked her to teach her to use a blade. And Judith loved her back, called her Mommy, sought her out first of everyone for everything, tried to take care of Michonne when she was sick and followed her around like a shadow. And now here she was, turning into a woman. Where had the time gone?

When they finished, with the laundry on the line and Judith changed and equipped with a set of rags and an old medical encyclopaedia, Michonne prepared some fortifying oatmeal porridge and, after eliciting a promise that the girl would stay put, went out in search of Rick.

Judith had been insistent that her father not be informed of this latest development, but that was not a promise Michonne could make. For one, it was dangerous, though only a little. For another, this was a very important development in Judith’s life and Michonne would be damned if Rick missed any of them. Not to mention that Michonne was more than a little proud. This happening meant that their efforts were not in vain, Judith was healthy and strong and one day could have a family of her own if she wanted to. Michonne was going to do everything in her power to see that happen, and this here was tangible proof of things improving for the better. The world was recovering.

It did not take Michonne long to find Rick. He was exactly where she expected him to be, which is to say not in his office reviewing proposals from their allies but out inspecting the walls, giving advice to the patrols and generally making a nuisance of himself. He was going to be a terrible old man. The long-suffering looks from their friends told the story well enough, so Michonne did not even bother with a greeting but just took him gently by the arm and led him away.

They were barely down the street before Rick intertwined their fingers, pressed a kiss to Michonne’s cheek and asked, “What is it?”

She replied without looking at him, “Judith’s started her period.”

Rick came to an abrupt and almost comical halt. Almost, because he nearly tripped Michonne when he stopped walking without releasing her hand. She turned to look at him, noted the blank look on his face and said, “Don’t worry, I’ve taken care of it. All of it, but yeah, our girl’s a woman now.”

“No she ain’t,” Rick grunted. It was an automatic response so there was no heat in it and Michonne laughed.

“Well her body is preparing to turn her into one with or without your permission,” she replied.

Rick took a breath, released it heavily and said, “Has it been that long already?”

“Yup,” she said, realising what he meant. Calendars were not exactly accurate, not anymore, time long lost in the chaos of the years, but the one sure thing was their little girl. It had been thirteen years since the world as they knew it ended and this new one pulled itself out of the ashes. It had also been thirteen years since they lost a lot of people they had known and loved. The pain had not disappeared but it was not so sharp, not anymore, not when one could look at the person that come to them in the midst of it.

Rick started walking again and Michonne wrapped her arms around his, letting him lead this time. After a moment, he asked, “So, what do we do? Do we have a party or something? How do you womenfolk handle these moments?”

Michonne laughed at that and replied, “Nothing. I think she would prefer to avoid the embarrassment. It is normal and natural but when you’re her age and your mother starts telling your aunts and her friends when you’re still trying to reassure yourself you’re normal, it’s not easy. Multiple that by ten if it’s your dad sharing the news with a party.”

Rick chuckled and said, “Okay, no party, but maybe I can get her something on the next run?”

“Oh yeah, you’re going to have to. I’m sure there’s a clothing store around here somewhere with training bras,” Michonne replied seriously.

On cue, Rick wrinkled his nose, even less keen on that idea. Michonne laughed again and said, “She was not going to remain a little girl forever. You know that. You and Carl have done a lot to teach her how to stay alive in this world, and that stuff is important, but she also had to learn about being a woman too.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s why she has you,” he said. “Left to me and Carl, Judith would be pissing against trees and trying to kill everyone she came across before getting to know them.”

“When you put it that way, it’s quite clear you would have been long dead without me,” Michonne said, still laughing.

“I’m not lying,” he said. “And that’s why I have you. To keep me from getting us all killed. Have I told you today that I love you and want you around for the rest of our lives?”

Michonne revelled in the thrill that sent through her for a moment, as it did every time, even after all these years, before she said, “She’s going to be okay. She is okay. She is made for this world, more than any of us because she was born into it. She’s come this far, we’re not going to let anything get in her way now.”

Rick nodded at this and said, “I just wish there was more, you know? That we could move on from the bullets and the basics faster and get back to some of the levels we had before. I know you hate that rag thing.”

They were back at the house. For once it was quiet, though not worryingly so, with Judith down for the count. Michonne squeezed Rick’s hand in hers and said, “We’re getting there. We women have got this, as we have had this for so many millennia. Now come on, we can’t make her day any more embarrassing from all the way out here.”

Rick lifted an eyebrow at that and asked, his tone wary, “I thought you said you handled it?”

“Oh, yeah, I kind of did,” Michonne replied, nodding, her grin mischievous. “But I refuse to have that part of the conversation alone. We’re in this together.”

Rick paused and then said, “On second thought, I think I remember that I—”

Michonne gave his hand a firm yank and pulled him up the steps into the house behind her to go talk to their daughter.


End file.
